


The Girl With the Snake Tattoo

by Opheliahungers



Category: Criminal Minds (US TV)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, Romance, Trauma
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-12
Updated: 2020-04-12
Packaged: 2021-03-02 01:08:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,518
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23616505
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Opheliahungers/pseuds/Opheliahungers
Summary: Spencer hadn't thought twice about perusing their latest case, no one could have prepared him for the life shattering impact it would have on him. For once the vic came out of the teams dance with the devil alive and with fire in her bones. Dr. Reid had never felt anything like her.
Relationships: Spencer Reid/Original Female Character(s)
Kudos: 13





	The Girl With the Snake Tattoo

**Author's Note:**

> ENGLISH IS NOT MY FIRST LANGUAGE. Also I'm on season two of Criminal Minds so be gentle with me, as far as canon plot this will be sparse, but the whole teams here!

#  Chapter One 

"Spence! We need you in the meeting room, Hotch and Gideon have already started the briefing." JJ rounded the corner quickly and sped off in the direction of the meeting room. Not bothering to set your satchel neatly across your desk chair you speed walk after her. 

"Our unsub has been kidnapping, torturing and murdering girls twice a year for the last five years" continues Agent Hotchner, having already started presenting the case file before you have a chance to clamor into one of the empty seats. "Why are we just now being called in? I mean, if the unsub has been active this long shouldn't Chicago PD have called us in years ago?" you splutter, slightly winded. "Sounds like pure negligence to me." Morgan chimes in from across the table. "Chicago PD are notoriously overworked and understaffed. It's likely they just didn't have the bandwidth to properly pursue this case." A collective groan erupts from the table, this would be a difficult mission, and it was clear you weren't the only one feeling a pang of regret at all of the time and lives lost already. 

"Judging from the crime scene photos our guy physically abuses each of his victims for months before finally killing them." Elle points out, flipping through the photos spread across the table surface. "He uses anything he has available to him within the structure he houses them in, many of the victims display signs of cigarette burns, gashes inflicted using items such as broken glass bottles, and pocket knives, as well as brands and serious lacerations and bruising." Hotchner informs the team. "This likely indicates that we're looking for a middle aged white male, early 30's to late 40's. He unleashes built up childhood rage on his victims, its not sexual, instead angry and violent. As if he's seeking revenge, perhaps on his young mother or an older sister, except he can't get to them, so he uses older teenage girls instead. Ages 17 to 19." With that Gideon closes out the briefing and sends you all back to your desks to pack for the 2pm flight ahead of you. 

Absorbing and memorizing the case hadn't been difficult for you, it never was, thank you eidetic memory. You still wished you hadn't been five minutes late, little indescrepencies like that gnawed at you. Rushing to gather the belongings you'd need off your desk you stuffed it all in your satchel, the pressure was on and you couldn't afford to waste anymore of your teams time. The current abductee was still alive assuming the unsub stuck to his MO. The clock was ticking, he'd already held her almost four months, which means you and the team only had a week to find her before he'd dispose of her. 

.  
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"We didn't even know these kidnapping were connected, a lot of 18 year olds go missing in this city, usually of their own free will." The portly head of the Chicago PD missing persons unit explained. A quick glance around and you knew your team mates weren't happy with the man's excuses. "Regardless, we're here now. Calling us was the right thing to do. Where can we set up?" The officer led Hotchner to a room adjacent the main floor of the station. "Let me know if you guys need anything." "Thank you Officer Deluna, we'll have everyone convene once we have a complete profile on the unsub." Waving him out, Hotchner began assigning everyone their tasks. 

.  
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You held your breath as your fellow agents and a few swat brigades swarmed the almost dilapidated two story home sitting in the center of one of Chicago's most underfunded and neglected burrows. The Unsub was George Scotts, menial mechanic, recluse and employee at a local Jiffy Lube for the last 15 years. His coworkers hadn't known much about him seeing as he worked under the bay floor draining oil, his boss stationed him there, claiming he didn't work well with others and had no interest in socializing. Once Morgan had Gracia pull up his background it all clicked. George had been an only child, born into a wealthy family of Chicago's Socialites. Things took a turn when his mother died early, leaving him the sole focus of his cold and aggressive fathers beatings and impossible expectations. You deduced that he blamed his mother for leaving him, hence his revenge motive. He was exiled and taken off his fathers will at 18 when he had tried to stand up for himself. He'd lived in squalor ever since. 

"GEORGE SCOTTS FBI OPEN UP." When frantic shuffling from behind the front door was the only response Hotch gave the signal and the swat team flanking you made quick work of the door, allowing you and the others to flood in. Remembering your breathing techniques you steadied yourself, gun held high clearing one room after another. "Where did this guy run to!?" "Morgan!" you call, standing a few feet away from what you guessed is a basement entrance. "Bingo." Morgan grits out before leading the team down the basement steps. Entering the concrete room was equal to that of a swift kick in the gut, the air in your lungs almost left you entirely. If Elle and Gideon weren't holding you steady from behind you're sure you would have fallen over. 

The enclosement was damp and stuffy with the smell of blood. It permeated the air like fog on a humid afternoon. Clutter was strewn about in every corner, tools and knives, gardening equipment and empty beer bottles, as well as what looked like makeshift torture devices and weapons. A sole mattress lay thrown in a corner of the space, no longer white but a dingy yellow and stained with blood, some brown and some freshly crimson. In the opposite corner sat a cage, door thrust open, big enough for a human smaller than 6ft to fit into. He must have kept her there. That's when your eyes met hers. Black hair wild and unkept, hazel eyes brimming with hunger instead of the expected fear. She bared her teeth and let out a harsh low yell, thrashing in the grease covered arms that held her still and a gun to her head. 

"Put the gun down George, put it down and you get to walk out of here alive." You hear Morgan's orders from behind you, his gun aimed at the unsubs forehead. His only reaction is to tighten his grip and cock the gun, "DON'T GET ANY FUCKING CLOSER OR THE BITCH DIES." "I know what it's like, your mother left you alone, wasn't there to protect you from his wrath. Your father demanded perfection all the time didn't he?" Gideon stated, stepping tentatively closer to the pair. You opened your mouth to add in your own analysis, but stopped dead in your tracks. "GET ME THE FUCK OUT OF HERE!" Her voice rang through the cement room like an echo. You'd never heard a victim command such a presence before. She snarled at your teams surprised stares, anger cascading off of her in tangible waves. Unhappy with the FBI's patient approach to saving her life, in one sudden movement she sank her teeth into the arm around her neck and bit down as if he was a porterhouse. 

After that everything was a blur, you and the team moving on autopilot. Elle took the wounding shot from beside Morgan, hitting the assailant in the knee just as the woman scrambled out of his grasp and into the arms of Jason Gideon. George cried out in pain, blood spilling from his arm and now knee as you lept behind him and forced him down with your foot, swiftly pulling out and clipping your cuffs around his sweaty wrists. Pulling him upright, the man yelled kicking and gesturing towards the girl he had kept in a cage for months, "YOU EVIL WHORE, YOU BITCH, I'LL FUCKING KILL YOU!" Before you're able to hand him off to an accompanying officer to be drug out of the house and stuffed into a squad car, she's pinned her eyes on him. Gideon leaps in shock to contain her in time as she attempts to rush the assailant, "TRY AND KILL ME, TRY IT YOU FUCKING COWARD, ILL TORTURE YOU TOO, FUCK LET ME GO!" at that Gideon only tightened his grip. 

You, Elle, and Gideon stayed behind with the victim once Morgan and Hotch followed the swat team out to finish arresting the scumbag. "Sh Sh Sh its going to be alright, its going to be ok." Elle spoke in hushed tones, rubbing circles into the woman's back as she trembled. You couldn't stop watching her, she shook from anger in place of terror, she heaved and clutched at the ground beneath her while Gideon and Elle supported her upper body. You've heard of trauma becoming a fuel for rage, how many who suffered from horrible incidents, who suffered ptsd as a result, ended up brimming with anger. But you had never seen a victim act so feral with rage so soon after her salvation. Then she looked up, her eyes met yours, you knew you were sweating now, hands clammy as your mind raced for something soothing to say. What good was being a genius if you couldn't even think of a few supportive words. Her expression captivated you, her eyes were hard and calculating, assessing you like a wild animal hunting its next meal. Her jaw clenched with aggression, making her sharp jawline even more pronounced. Finally after Gideon coaxed some deep breaths from her she made to get up from her position crouched on the floor. "Get me the fuck out of here. Now." It wasn't a plea or a thank you, it was a demand. 

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Grace, her name was Grace Bracamonte, she was 20 years old now, the unsub had snagged her right before her birthday, you find out from Garcia. She had just started her sophomore year of college and was taken while moving boxes into her dorm room from the student parking lot. She was a Literature major, minoring in history and foreign language. She came from a normal middle class house hold, her parents had reported her missing two weeks after she was supposed to have started the school year having not heard from her. She usually called home once a week. She was in Chicago purely for college, her family was from Quantico, her neighborhood stood a few miles north of the BAU headquarters. Given this information the team offered to stay in Chicago until she was released from the hospital the next day in order to extradite her back to Virginia with you. The night before she was set to be released back into FBI custody you spent hours looking through her case file, reviewing all of the information Garcia had sent over. It was clawing at you, digging away at your skin, the way she spoke, commanded, held herself. How had this pathetic serial killer taken her so easily? 

.  
.  
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The plane ride back had been uneventful, you had hoped to learn more about her, asses her further, but she slept nearly the entire flight. You figured it was the first real sleep she'd gotten in the past four months. The whole team sat close to her, not too close but close enough to feel assured that she was protected and safe. Surrounding her like a barricade. While your coworkers read, or napped you couldn't focus on anything else. From your seat across from her you could see the rise and fall of her chest, the way her black hair stuck to her damp forehead due to the shear depth of her slumber. Her arms were littered with raised scars, ranging from long gashes to small round welts and bigger burnt shapes. Her knuckles were scabbed, having been raw and bloodied hours before. Her lip was busted at the edge, a dark spot of ink was visible just under the hem of the sleeve from the t-shirt the hospital staff had provided her. 

Hospital results were handed to Hotch that morning before take off, she hadn't been raped, thank god. But you had assumed she wouldn't have been considering the unsub's revenge motive, he wasn't in it for sexual release. But she had been horribly and consistently tortured for weeks. He used anything from hedge clippers to torn soda cans to cut her open and watch her scream. He had used the old fire place on the top floor to heat metal rods and brand her body with them, along with anything else metal. The staff claimed they even identified the shape and design of a can of chewing tobacco burned into her side. Her Gums and jaw suffered some stress, signs that she had grit her teeth and clenched her jaw together to keep from screaming. Could be why the guy was so frustrated with her, she displayed far more signs of abuse than the other victims, if she hadn't given him the reactions he craved that would explain it. She hadn't been fed nearly enough and never once cleaned. The nurses had to give her an intensive bath just to remove the layers of dirt and dried blood to properly inspect her many wounds. Bruises were evident from head to two, the most visible being the purple splotch that encased her nose from when the unsub attempted to break it, the rest disappeared under pants and a shirt. 

She awoke only when the plane began to land, her eyes snapped open and immediately burned into yours, the heat from them palpable. "Hey..how are you feeling?" It was JJ that spoke up first, directing a comforting gaze toward her. Taking a second to scan her eyes around the room, and look directly at everyone sitting around her, she sighed leaning her head back on the seat. "Like shit, you would too if you had been tortured like a fucking war prisoner for, how long was it? Months?" Some nodded, Elle rubbed her shoulder, Gideon stayed silent, analyzing her words. So you spoke up instead, "You were really strong down there, we really admire you aiding us in his capture.." Averting your gaze nervously, hoping you said the right thing while awaiting her response. The whole team seemed to hold their breath. Lifting her eyebrow she seemed to think about your words for a second before huffing out a small laugh, "well you guys were taking too long, but thank you for the search and rescue." Then you couldn't believe it, the tug you felt at your heart at her wide toothy smile. It was smug but it made warmth creep up your spine. It was infectious too, everyone else let out a puff of tension and laughed, even Gideon wore a smirk. 

"Alright team, lets close out the paper work on this case at headquarters, Reid, you and Elle escort Ms. Bracamonte home." With that everyone spilled out of the plane and into the SUV's already waiting in the parking lot. 

**Author's Note:**

> If you like this tell me, if you don't tell me where I can improve. Also do not go read my other works thinking they'll be any good, I was like 14 when I last posted on here, I'm 22 now. Trust me.


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